No. 23: The Things She Carries in Her Giant Purse

My wife, Vicky, is an immigrant. When we met eleven years ago, she had already been living in the United States 13 years. I thought she spoke perfect English, but when dessert came she said, “Let’s dive onto this pie.”

She told me she’s from Venezuela. I’m from Miami and knew nothing about Venezuela. I said, “South America, right?”